#i very much enjoy highbrow art but also love lowbrow art

[lucienfairfax]

RANDOM QUERY WITH NO ASSIGNED NUMBER - what're Ishan and Dayir's fave snack foods and beverages XD

this one is so hard because there’s so much food in FFXIV and I have a bit of a sieve brain and I don’t remember all the delicious and varied dishes when I need to D:

I’ll just do my best here. so, Ishan is primarily a sandwich/pita/empanada kind of person -- he doesn’t get much joy out of the sheer act of eating the way Dayir does, but he does get a lot of joy out of flavour-packed stuffed-to-the-gills meat pies that he can shove in his face while rushing off to his next adventure. he does not eat his vegetables unless Dayir or Y’shtola makes him (okay he’ll eat veggies in a banh xeo but that’s because the inherent goodness of “food in pouch” overrides all other concerns), but he will snatch fruits and berries off trees and eat them as he’s walking. (it’s definitely backfired on him because he doesn’t have the patience to double check and make sure he’s not eating a lookalike berry that will actually poison him, but guess it’s a good thing Dayir’s a healer!)

Ishan has definitely taken an antelope steak and speared it with a fork and then walked away munching on it. he’s also that guy popping a whole boiled egg in his mouth at the entrance to the ruins before lunging forward and pulling the whole dungeon

also, as frequently noted, Ishan is a huge drinker. he always has a flask within easy reach and it’s always full of something strong. but for some reason, he’s rarely drunk and never hungover. it sustains him or something. maybe the aether in booze just hits different (let’s blame Rhalgr and be done with it)

now, when it comes to culinary delights, it’s Dayir you want. this boi will eat anything once, because it’s all about the experience for em. that experience can be as highbrow as a guest chef from Kugane hosting a banquet at the Bismarck or as lowbrow as digging for clams with Momoroto and eating them raw under the shade of a tree. Dayir has big Anthony Bourdain vibes when it comes to understanding culture through cuisine (also has something to do with the aether in the food, like... it has different effects in different places -- nigh imperceptible to the average consumer but very perceptible to someone with more attunement). but also, Dayir is just sensual in general and derives great joy from the experience of consumption -- from the sweet anticipation of hunger pangs as the smell of food wafts towards em, to the sacred first taste, to the sigh of satiation as ey lean back on eir cushions and reflect on the meal just enjoyed. if ey’re in a hurry, or on the run or something, ey just won’t eat. ey’ll drink beverages and ey can be wheedled into eating a meat-on-a-stick type deal if necessary, but Dayir definitely treats eating as an optional luxury that ey will put off until ey can actually enjoy it.

no, it’s not smart xD ey’ve definitely been scolded for it by multiple people, but that’s just the way ey are.

ey’re also not very good at cooking -- like, ey can do it in a pinch, but why would ey do that when part of the joy is watching someone else be a master of the art? to wait in great anticipation for the food to be prepared, and then have it served to you... man, you can’t beat that. Ishan is the one in a noble’s body but I swear Dayir acts like the real dandy here

sweets, rice dishes, and hearty veggie dishes are big faves for Dayir, as well as any flavour duos (sweet/hot, for example) and anything fluffy (souffles, for example) or anything with a “bright” profile. ey love aperitifs and digestifs and any meal with courses (the longer and more luxurious a meal, the better!). I’m saying all this like Dayir doesn’t just love everything that crosses eir tongue (including some things that aren’t food--)

.... oh god when did this post get this long

[crogerswrites]

Review: Revenge, by Jim Harrison

I discovered Jim Harrison through a photograph. It was of his bedroom, a simple room with a rustic bed and small wood stove in the corner, a beautiful portrait of a dwelling by Alec Soth. The room charmed me, and when I looked more into who the room belonged to, Harrison charmed me too. In one of the first few interviews I listened to of his, he spoke about witnessing a raven funeral. I am such an admirer of nature, especially birds, and particularly ravens, so right then and there I was a fan for life. I dove into his interviews, because I am at the stage of a writer’s life where they look for the answer to writing wherever they can. The more interviews I took in, the more I admired him. He was a student of the natural world; he was a hunter, and at the same time someone who understood the natural world not as a place to conquer, but marvel at and learn from. That is an unbelievably difficult combination to find, as most people who say they love nature only view it as something to conquer and test themselves against. He also had none of the uptightness and moral superiority that usually accompanies an in depth appreciation of nature. He was well balanced, quoting equally from classic literature as well as the beauty of indigenous spirituality and medicine. He had as many highbrow interests as he did lowbrow, and it seemed he did not distinguish between the two. He was a well read country bumpkin, and it shone a light on a path I had been looking for. 

I stuck with the interviews until I ran out of what I could find online, then I ordered a book of his interviews and dove into that. Eventually I made the leap to his writing, getting Legends of the Fall for Christmas. Revenge, the first novella of the book was also the first piece of his work I had read. Now there can be the awkward moment between infatuation and living up to the dream. His interviews were great, but would the fiction provide the same satisfaction? I can proudly say that he did not disappoint. 

You are quickly sucked into this story. The opening sequence is great, because it hooks you with the mystery of this almost dead body in the desert. What really hooks you though is not some generic mystery plot line, but the way Harrison fleshes out the world and his characters. He sets the scene and location up properly, and you have a full sense of the stage this story is about to take place on. It begins on the southern side of the US-Mexico border, and Harrison’s writing gives it the grandeur, mystery, and magic the place deserves. The story is constantly jumping perspectives, and while our almost dead body is still unconscious, we are treated to the perspective of a vulture, an old coyote, and the man who finds the slowly perishing body. There are constant diversions to other perspectives in this story, but they are always welcome. Harrison’s flexibility when it comes to writing characters (both human and animal) shines through, and the story is enriched by the diversions instead of derailed by them. The story transfers perspectives until it mostly finds a home with our protagonist, and once it does you are almost sad to leave the others behind. The story also cuts up time and rearranges it as it likes, making this even less of a singular flowing narrative and instead more of something seen from multiple sides all at the same time. The narration, of multiple stories flowing in and out of each other, time skipping back and forth, of varying perspectives, always keeps you reading on. I was happy to find that reading Harrison’s prose was just as good as listening/reading his interviews.

The main narrative though is addictive, it starts out as a mystery and keeps you enthralled as it gets revealed to you. The main character, called Cochran, is a bit cookie cutter; former marine, divorced, good looking, does not have a post-military career, but spends his time hustling people in tennis. He is also very well read, an Indiana farm boy that blossomed into both a marine and an intellectual. The character starts on unstable ground, but despite the almost cliche and dream like qualities, that is as predictable or canned as the story ever gets. Our protagonist lives in Tucson, and spends some spare time hustling the overly zealous wealthy in tennis games. He sometimes did this with his partner Tibey, the typical wealthy and shady Mexican, who kept a second home state side. Of course Tibey’s wife Miryea is young, beautiful, and also well read. At first she is cold to Cochran, but during a moment in her personal library they fall instantly in love. From there we are taken into a quick boiling love affair between two people who are most likely soul mates, but are separated by the circumstances of life. Of course Tibey finds out, and the books first part ends in a brutal scene at Cochran’s cabin where the lovers are attacked, mutilated, and Cochran left for dead. 

The narrative at the end of the first act is set up to follow the cliche revenge story. It could have easily been the inspiration for the movie Taken, or an addition to the bad series. You have the pissed Marine with nothing to lose anymore, the Mexican cartel boss who responded with severe violence when he was cucked, and the beautiful, smart leading lady stashed away but still alive. Cochran, once nursed back to health at the mission, vows to retrieve her. The narrative from there betrays the name of the story though, and goes into something much deeper. 

A simple minded person would look at the narrative and think this is machismo garbage. That is only the set up of the story though, and just serves as a springboard to get to the real story. What happens next is not an exploration of male fantasy acted out through violence, but an exploration of human fantasy. The long trail of blood and revenge never arrives, instead we are given a romantic tragedy. Cochran’s focus is never to kill Tibey, it is to get Miryea back. He can not stop thinking about her, about the times they had together and how she was the only good thing that happened in his life. Fuck revenge, he just wants his girl back. He even thinks to himself that once he confronts Tibey, he will give the girl up, showing his motivation is more set on reuniting than revenge. He is not possessed with bloodlust, he is obsessed only with Miryea. Tibey, for his role as the Mexican gangster, is also obsessed with Miryea, and almost regrets the bloody night at the cabin. Instead of the cold hearted gangster, we get a man struggling with himself. Miryea was also the only good thing that happened to Tibey as well, and yes he lost her to another man, but he would do anything just to erase these events and return to existing with her as his wife. He had to respond in that brutal way because of who he is. He does so to play his role, keep up his facade. But we get to see behind the facade though, that he is crumbling not because his masculinity has been damaged by the betrayal, but that Miryea’s love was such an integral part to his true sense of self and happiness. 

Miryea could maybe be seen as a flat character. She never really receives the fleshing out that the others do. She receives the worst fate of the whole story, and her only crime is infidelity with someone she truly loved. Yet she is also the most important character, the central figure the whole thing rotates around. She is not simply infatuated with Cochran, the passion goes both ways. To reduce her down to simply a damsel in distress would do her character a bigger disservice than Harrison.  She is not just well read and beautiful, she manages to pull something deeper out of both men. In a story that is set up to be a bloody revenge tale, it becomes an examination of true love and what it does to the human soul. That whole narrative is centered around Miryea. The story is not about men getting equal, but about the power love brings to human’s lives. It weighs the emotions of bloodlust and revenge against love, and it is love that comes out as the more powerful feeling to hold again.

The story is romantic, but it is a tragedy. Part of the reason I enjoyed this book so much was the fact that I needed to see how it turned out, but as you are rushing towards the end, all of the things you thought would happen never come. There is never the trail of blood during a covert mission to whisk Miryea away. As far as revenge narratives go, the ending is downright anti-climactic. That is where the story shines though, it never hands you the simple narrative. It actually takes the warm fuzzy scene you hope for the whole time, rips it from your hands, and replaces it with the cold hard piece of life. The whole book you wait for the good thing to happen, but it never comes. The timeline in the book dangles hope in front of you. It starts with an almost dead man. While he recovers, we see what happened to him, and we see one of the only really happy times in the book. From there we are thrown back into miserable times, and you expect a climb out of the dismal situation, only to find every turn of the story leads you down a darker more tragic narrative. Tragedy is a powerful art form though, and an important one. While the narrative does not provide us the coddling hope humanity sometimes needs, the despair in these stories provides a more realistic look at life, and contrasts much more true and beautifully with the small shining light that life sometimes surprises us with. 

I think the brilliance of Harrison in this story is his flipping of the cliche revenge story into a tale that examines the impact of romance on our lives and also the tragedy that so often accompanies our greatest achievements. The whole machismo writer label gets washed away in the final scenes of this story, I think it is really hard to make that argument with the whole story in place. The title Revenge, seems to be tongue in cheek, as the story seems to explore most human emotions except revenge. The one character who does enact his revenge, Tibey, struggles mightily with the fact that he got it, and realizes it is not actually what he wanted or needed. This is not a Deathwish style tale, it just takes that emotion and dissects it alongside all of the others. It is a study of masculinity, how its performance can be counter to the true needs of a human soul. Those needs are all too often not addressed in such a masculine context either. Harrison provides the formulaic only to dissect it with deeper meaning.